Lucifer Rising
by Aini NuFire
Summary: Apocalypse Wars, Episode 5 - Castiel continues to search for answers regarding Sam and the special children. Meanwhile, a viral outbreak at Camp Chitaqua forces the Winchesters to set out in search of medicine. But things may not be as they appear.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Shoutout to 29Pieces for beta reading this verse, and for the marvelous art she decided to do for every episode! Four parts to this one this time. :D**

* * *

THEN

 _Gabriel stormed into Heaven's throne room, a place only a select few were permitted to even lay eyes on. There had once been a time when he and the other archangels could come and go as they pleased to see their father, but over the past few centuries, God had withdrawn deeper and deeper into solitude. Well, Gabriel wasn't going to stand for it anymore._

 _Morale was suffering; every angel under Heaven was feeling the pall of disheartenment as times grew darker. They could really use a pep talk from dear old Dad right about now._

 _Gabriel strode past the pearly pillars to give God a piece of his mind._

 _And found Michael sitting on the throne instead._

 _"He's gone, Gabriel."_

 _…_

 _"How long?"_

 _"Long enough." Michael lolled his head to the side, his posture stiff yet somehow defeated._

 _"All the orders," Gabriel started, "are from you."_

 _Michael shrugged. "Someone had to take up the mantle."_

 _"Of what? You've called off relief missions, cancelled guardian postings. Just what are you trying to run here?"_

 _"Heaven. And soon a new one. God left his final instructions. The world will perish in fire and be laid bare, and I will rebuild from its ashes something better."_

 _Gabriel narrowed his gaze. "Dad was just toying with that idea, Michael; he wasn't serious!"_

 _"Well, I am."_

 _Gabriel shook his head in dismay. "You're no better than Lucifer."_

 _Michael's eyes flashed and he surged from the throne. "Lucifer has his part to play. As we all do."_

 _"No. The others won't go along with this once they find out—"_

 _Michael's grace exploded with a strident screech that slammed into Gabriel without warning. Golden fire coursed over him, lightning forking down to the core of his grace. Gabriel screamed as it seared him._

 _Yet he managed to shoot out a bolt of plasma that hit Michael in the knee, buckling his leg and disrupting his concentration._

 _Gabriel sucked in a shuddering breath and leaped into the ether._

 _…_

 _The currents battered him back and forth. Gabriel tried to navigate the slipstream, but he was too wounded to do much other than be buoyed about and hope he didn't end up smashed into the side of a mountain._

 _When the ether finally spat him out, it was in a glade. Gabriel lay among the grass and mulch, unable to move, barely able to breathe. He could still feel the phantom licks of silver fire across his skin. His grace curled into a tight ball and spritzed with dying spurts._

 _He had no idea how long he lay there in agony before a vision of beauty appeared standing over him. Rich ebony hair cascaded down bare, bronze colored shoulders. Her lips were as red as blood. Gabriel thought if this was Death, he might go happily._

 _…_

 _Gabriel knocked back a swig of vodka, grimacing at the burn as it went down his throat. Ah, the good stuff._

 _A slim arm slipped around his waist from behind, followed by a nibble on his earlobe. Gabriel—or Loki, now—set his liquor aside and turned into Kali's arms. She was as good a distraction as the bottle, and an even better one most of the time. In her embrace, Gabriel could forget about Michael and Heaven and all the things he couldn't fix._

 _…_

 _The shockwave of the Devil's Gate opening reverberated throughout the Pantheon. Alarm went up, the pagan deities incensed that the Judeo-Christian figureheads would dare instigate the End. They discussed what action to take in response. Gabriel knew any confrontation with Heaven's legions would be fatal._

 _Kali would not be swayed, though._

 _So he left before he would have to watch them all die._

 _He roamed aimlessly as demons spilled forth across the earth. For many nights afterward, the air was full of endless screams before they finally settled._

 _It was chance, coming upon Anna standing on that rise. Gabriel hesitated under the shadows of the trees; he knew all of Heaven's angels would have been ordered to battle, that this was all secretly pre-ordained. He almost left, until he heard a quiet hitch of breath._

 _Anna turned toward the sunrise, a single tear glistening down her cheek. She took out her angel blade and pressed the tip over her heart._

 _…_

 _Gabriel wrapped his fingers firmly around the hilt and pried it from her grasp. She gazed at him in shock._

 _"Gabriel?" The brokenness in her tone tore at his heart._

 _"Anna, what are you doing?"_

 _She ducked her gaze in shame. "I failed. There was something wrong in Heaven, and I didn't speak up soon enough. I acted too late. And I- I can't find Castiel. He followed me, Gabriel, and I lost him."_

 _He frowned. Anna and Castiel had disobeyed? They'd tried to stop the Devil's Gate from opening?_

 _Gabriel was suddenly struck with the question of what if there were others? Others who saw how corrupt Heaven had become, and wanted to choose a different path? But, like Anna, they were probably lost, scattered._

 _He knew what he had to do._

 _Gabriel had let Michael drive him from his home, had let his own grief and wounded pride keep him away. He'd tried to make a new family among the pagans, but what he failed to realize was how much his angel siblings needed him. Especially now._

 _It was time for Gabriel to take up his own mantle. And take a stand._

 _…_

NOW

Castiel stood outside a small house in Enid, Oklahoma, listening to the utter stillness pervading the area, as though not a single living creature from bird to insect was in the vicinity. Perhaps the demon had been lying about one of Azazel's special children being here.

Castiel had gone back to Lucifer's crypt, the one he and Sam had located earlier, in the hopes of finding anything that might shed light on Azazel's plans. He'd found a lower class demon who'd come looking for Lilith after she'd stopped sending out orders. The demon found her, of course—dead on the crypt floor. And then he'd found Castiel.

Interrogating the demon didn't take long, but the mongrel insisted he didn't know why the special children were important, only that he'd been assigned to keep an eye on one of them. Castiel had gotten a name and location out of the demon before terminating it.

But now that he was here, he didn't sense any signs of life. He made a circuit around the house. The back porch steps had a thick coating of dust that was smeared, which meant someone had, in fact, been here recently. But where were they now?

He turned in a slow circle, eyes peeled against the surrounding foliage, then stopped. There was a copper tang on the air.

Castiel strode into the wooded area extending from the backyard. Only a few yards in, he pulled up short at the sight of a body draped face up over a tree stump. Blood trickled down between lax fingers to drip on a bed of dry leaves. Castiel approached cautiously, though there didn't seem to be any demons in the area. And the victim hadn't been mauled.

No, he'd been blood-letted. Castiel crouched beside the body. A pair of dog tags dangled from the young man's neck. Jake Talley. The one that demon was supposed to be watching. Had it killed its charge? Or had something else moved in once the demon had left to find Lilith?

Too many questions and not enough answers. Castiel clenched a fist in frustration. He focused his senses on the small amounts of blood, and could detect a slight whiff of demonic essence woven into it. Which meant at the very least that this was one of the special children, like Sam.

But why was he dead? It almost looked like a ritualistic killing, too. Castiel did not like the implications for what that meant for Sam. And now yet another lead turned out to be a dead end.

He straightened abruptly and took to the ether, riding the slipstream back to the garrison's base. Castiel needed counsel, and so he made his way through the compound to Gabriel's office/quarters. It was one of the few places where the archangel's history masquerading as a Trickster made itself known—the decor was lavish and had an odd mix of Norse and Hindu elements, from an elaborate tapestry of Ragnarok as an area rug to a statue of the goddess Kali on the desk. But there was also a pencil holder filled with lollipops and a shelf of Casa Erotica DVDs, whatever that was. Perhaps a television show Dean would like.

Castiel drew to a stop at the door when he heard voices within, Inias and Hael giving Gabriel a report on their recent mission. Castiel waited on the threshold.

"The hospital we've been getting supplies from is now gone," Hael said.

"Gone?" Gabriel repeated. "What, it vanished?"

"No, it looks like a Hulk smashed through it," Inias replied.

"The Hulk," Gabriel said.

Inias frowned. "What?"

"It's 'the Hulk,' not 'a Hulk.' And anyway, that's not important." Gabriel waved off-handedly. "So, we need to use a different hospital."

"We visited the next town over," Hael said. "But that hospital was burned down."

"We were probably close to depleting the stock there, anyway," Inias added. "We could go north."

"The witch coven in Montana is gaining a stronghold," Gabriel said. "But it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on their doings. Set up reconnaissance for the area, and if the hospital is easy to access, then go for it."

They nodded and turned to leave, giving Castiel small smiles and nods as they passed. Castiel slipped into the room.

"I found one of Azazel's 'special children,'" he reported. "Killed recently in what looked like a ritualistic manner."

Gabriel frowned. "Any sign of what did it?"

"No, just that it probably wasn't a beast."

The archangel crossed his arms. "So it could have been an angel. If Heaven got wind of the demons plotting something, they might intervene."

"Then Sam Winchester is in danger from both Heaven and Hell," Castiel said, chest constricting at the thought.

Gabriel gave him a sympathetic look. "The Winchesters and Camp Chitaqua are warded against everything imaginable, and that's all we can do."

Yes, but it was the unimaginable that worried Castiel.

"I can keep looking for answers," he said.

Gabriel sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. "I don't like you going off on your own for this. You were lucky with Lilith, you know that?"

Castiel ducked his gaze. He knew that, but it didn't deter him. "Hell is planning something and we need to be ready."

"Hell is always planning something. We've got clusters of demons banding together more and more lately. Frankly, we need to be focusing our efforts there."

Castiel furrowed his brow. "Are you ordering me to stop?"

" _No_." Gabriel softened his expression. "Cas, look, I know this is important to you, but you've been at it for weeks without any leads."

"I just came from one."

"That was a dead end."

Castiel's jaw clenched. Maybe Gabriel was right and this was a waste of time when they had very real battles to fight on the front lines. But he couldn't dismiss a niggling feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Nor did he want to miss something of import that would lead to Sam or Dean being hurt.

Gabriel shook his head. "Just, don't run yourself into the ground, alright? Here, have a lollipop." He picked up the pencil holder and held it out, waggling his eyebrows.

Castiel huffed. "No thanks."

Gabriel heaved a dramatic sigh as he set the container back on the desk. "I honestly don't know how I'm related to any of you. Only Balthazar seems to have a taste for human delicacies."

"I see that family resemblance just fine," Castiel said dryly.

Gabriel shot him a good-natured scowl. "Get out."

Castiel obliged. He appreciated Gabriel's concerns, and he wasn't blind to their struggle in this war, but he just felt as though he was missing something important.

He almost bumped into Anna in the hallway. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, her eyes dark and thoughtful.

"I'll help you look for answers," she said, catching Castiel off guard.

"I thought you would have considered other things more important," he admitted, not that he blamed her.

Anna lifted her chin, and there was no reluctance or hesitation in her gaze. "You followed me once, Castiel. All the way to the doorstep of Hell. I think I should return the favor."

He opened his mouth to say that of course he followed her; she was his captain and friend. But their friendship was precisely why she was choosing to stand by him now.

Castiel nodded in gratitude. "Let's get to work, then."

* * *

Dean stood in Bobby's cabin, arms tucked tightly about himself and a fist pressed against his chin as he watched Ellen mop the older hunter's fevered brow with a wet cloth. Five days and Bobby wasn't getting better. None of the people who'd fallen sick were.

The door creaked open, and Dean turned as Sam walked in. He automatically tensed at his little brother's pinched expression.

"Three more people have gotten sick," Sam said grimly.

"Great," Dean muttered. That made half their camp.

"It was bound to happen eventually," Sam replied. "With the close quarters and problems with water sanitation."

"Not seeing anything we can do about that," he said gruffly.

Sam just gave him a sympathetic look. "I wasn't blaming you, Dean. We've got a good setup here, but we just don't have the resources we're used to. There's no First World anymore, and we have to adjust."

Dean ran a hand over his hair. "Yeah, I know."

Ellen set the damp cloth aside and stood up. "We're almost out of Tylenol. Any idea when we can expect another shipment of meds from the angels?"

Dean's lips thinned. "I've been on the radio with them, but they've had trouble finding stuff lately."

"At this point," Sam put in, "we need more than what the angels can easily transport, anyway."

Dean nodded. "We'll have to make a supply run ourselves. Grab Jo, Keith, and Risa. Tell them we leave in half an hour."

"Try hospitals instead of drug stores," Ellen said. "In addition to fever reducers, we need lots of saline fluids. Dehydration is gonna be our biggest threat. And if you can find Tamiflu, we can at least give that to the people who haven't caught it yet, hopefully stave it off, or at least reduce the duration once it hits."

"Should probably pick up some convalescence care stuff, like catheters," Sam added.

Dean grimaced. Those weren't gonna be fun.

He cast one last look at Bobby, pale and barely stirring in the depths of his febrile state. "We'll try to be quick," he told Ellen.

She nodded, and reached out to squeeze his arm. "I've got things here. Be careful."

Dean nodded, and headed out with Sam to get ready for this little excursion. Given the state of things, supply runs weren't like driving down to the nearest hospital and placing an order at the counter. Cities were dangerous and crawling with demons, not to mention that after a year, a lot of places had been picked clean. There was no telling how long this trip would take them.

After packing a bunch of weapons and some rations, they piled into a pickup truck, Dean, Sam, and Jo wedged into the front seat with Keith and Risa riding in the truck bed. The closest hospital was deep within demon territory, so they turned west and drove for half an hour before coming across a town that didn't seem to have perpetual fires burning. First good sign.

Dean followed the directions for the hospital—those blue sign posts were a godsend now that they no longer had Google Maps—but when he turned the fourth corner, he slowly pressed the brake and guided the truck to a stop. His heart sank as he took in the crumbled ruins of what had once been the hospital. It looked as though the entire building had just…caved in on itself. Like a house of cards.

Which was what Dean's optimism and hope was on the verge of feeling like right about now. He preferred fighting monsters that could be ganked, not invisible pathogens too microscopic to narrow in on and kill.

Risa tapped the back window. "What now?"

Dean gritted his teeth, and put the truck in reverse. "We keep going."

"Guys," Jo spoke up. She pointed across the dash toward the opposite side of the intersection where a group of three people had emerged, an older man and two women. They froze at the sight of the truck, looking like deer caught in headlights.

Dean put the vehicle in park and slowly opened his door. "Hey there," he called out, keeping his hands up and away from his weapons.

The strangers exchanged nervous looks.

"We just came here looking for medicine, that's all," Dean assured them. They didn't appear threatening, and were probably more scared of the Winchesters' group, but if they were part of a larger settlement, armed backup could arrive at any second.

The older man frowned. "That's what we came here for," he said, then flicked a dispirited look at the ruined hospital. His gaze hardened suspiciously when he turned back to Dean. "You from this town?"

"No," Dean replied. "It was just the first one that didn't look demon infested. We have a settlement east of here, but a lot of people have gotten sick recently, and we need more meds."

"Sickness broke out in our group, too," the man said, and Dean could see him becoming tenser.

"Since neither of us got what we needed," Dean said, "we could travel together to find another hospital. You have a vehicle?"

The man continued to gaze at him guardedly. Dean knew the guy was probably expecting them to want to keep any resources they found to themselves. That's what a lot of survivor groups would do. But Dean didn't operate that way. Hospitals were big places; surely there'd be enough for their small parties to share.

The older man glanced over his shoulder at his women companions as though communicating silently for a moment, then turned back and cleared his throat. "Yeah, that's really kind of you. We have a car; it's around the corner."

"No problem," Dean said.

One of the women jogged off, presumably to retrieve their vehicle, and the other two started to cautiously cross the street. Dean heard the truck's passenger side door open as Sam and Jo got out.

"I'm Dean Winchester. This is my brother Sam. That's Jo, Keith, and Risa." He pointed them out.

"I'm Paul Robles. This is Kathy, and that was Meredith who went for the car," the older man replied. His shoulders slumped and he suddenly looked ten years older. "We had a hospital in the town we've set up refuge in, but a week ago there was a storm and it was struck by all this lightning. I've never seen such a thing." He snorted. "But then, I'd never seen demons before last year. Anyway, we were forced to look elsewhere for medicine."

Dean's mouth turned down. Could demons be targeting the hospitals? Why? Just to make life even more miserable for any surviving humans in the area?

A blue sedan slowly rolled around the corner then.

"You know of another town safe to check?" Dean asked Paul.

The older man nodded. "Yeah, I do. North of here."

"I'll follow you, then." Dean climbed back into the truck along with Sam and Jo. Hopefully their next step would prove more fruitful.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II**

Castiel lifted the lid of yet another crate and scrunched his nose up. He picked up a grotesque ritual mask that looked to be made of actual human skin, grimacing at the gaping, macabre mouth.

"Lucifer always did go for shock value," he muttered.

Anna looked up from the container she was rifling through, mouth twisting at the mask. "He liked the attention."

"So did Gabriel, but he was never so vulgar." Castiel tossed the mask into the corner of the underground crypt.

Anna had discovered this one's location after interrogating several demons, and she and Castiel had been going through its contents for hours now, with nothing to show for it. This cache didn't even have weapons they might take back to the compound to at least show Gabriel that it hadn't been a waste of time. Castiel was getting more and more frustrated.

His gaze idly slid over where he'd chucked the mask, and stopped when he noticed something else on the floor beside it. Frowning, he moved away from the crate and went over to pick the item up. It was a book. Odd that it should be lying on the floor and not in a proper place on a shelf or in a storage container.

Castiel opened it to the middle. It was a journal of some kind, hand written. He started flipping through the pages, and stopped when his eyes caught a glimpse of what looked like a ledger. There was a list of dates and names…

 _November 2_ _nd_ _, 1983.  
_ _Sam Winchester._

Castiel froze. That was the date Azazel had come into Sam's room, the date their mother had been killed walking in on the demon feeding her son its blood.

Castiel frantically skimmed the rest of the names. There was Jake Talley, too. So this must be a list of the special children.

"Anna."

He heard a clatter as she set down whatever she was looking at to come over. "What is it?"

"Azazel's notes on his 'special children,' it would seem," he replied.

She let out a soft gasp. "There's so many. Does it say what their purpose is?"

Castiel turned the page, tracing a finger down the long list of names until it stopped at the bottom of the page and switched to something about a ritual. But the next page over was completely blank. Castiel's heart dropped into his stomach. Several pages of the journal had been torn out.

"Someone's gotten here before us," he said. With Azazel and Lilith dead, someone else must have taken up their mission.

Anna reeled back. "Then we have nothing to go on."

Castiel's jaw clenched. _No!_ They kept coming so close yet were constantly thwarted at every turn.

"Wait," he said, straightening abruptly. "We might be able to see what the last page said."

Anna quirked a confused look at him. "How?"

He cast his gaze around for what he needed, and snatched up a piece of charcoal from a shelf. Laying the journal on a flat surface, he began to lightly rub the charcoal across the page. He'd seen this trick performed on an episode of some show Dean had made him watch once.

As the charcoal smeared across the paper, indentations left in white slowly appeared.

Anna leaned over to get a closer look. "I'm impressed."

"Apparently television can be good for something," Castiel remarked as he narrowed his gaze on the words that had been revealed. This section was long past whatever ritual the special children were intended for, but this last bit appeared to be a spell for locating them when the time came. Castiel felt a quick surge of relief that the warding he'd placed on Sam's ribs would conceal him from it.

"The ingredients for that spell are all in here," Anna said. "Should we try to find some of these people?"

Castiel nodded. "I don't know what ritual they're meant for, but we can be assured it won't be anything good."

Anna's mouth thinned into a grim line at that, and they fanned out to gather the items required for the spell—herbs, sulfur powder, the calcified digits of a lizard's toes. Once they were ready, Anna mixed the ingredients in a bowl while Castiel picked out a name to search for. Since Jake Talley was dead, he figured they should try for the name below his, in case whoever was behind this would be going in order.

But when they performed the spell, nothing happened. The ingredients didn't even smoke and smolder with an ignition.

"Maybe we're missing some components from another page," Anna said.

"Or the person we're trying to find is already dead." Castiel picked a name three lines down and said the incantation for the spell again, focusing his intent on this person.

The mixture in the bowl popped with a puff of smoke, and Castiel felt a ping in his consciousness. He lifted his head. "Found one."

He quickly stuffed Azazel's journal inside his jacket as he and Anna strode out of the crypt and leaped into the ethereal slipstream. Castiel led the way through its currents until they exited into a densely wooded area in northern Michigan. He froze at the sight before them.

A young woman's body lay on the ground with a figure kneeling over her, his back turned to the angels. He was elevating one of her arms as blood from her slit wrist poured into a glass container that was already almost full.

 _No_.

Castiel took a step forward, leaves crunching under his feet, and the figure whirled around, his one white eye standing out against his dark complexion. Castiel's jaw slackened in stupefaction. "Uriel?"

The angel dropped the young woman's arm and rose to his feet, the jar of blood in one hand. His lip curled in a silent snarl.

Castiel could only gape at him. " _You're_ killing the special children?"

Uriel sneered. "I should have figured your heart would bleed for these abominations."

"They're victims," Anna interjected.

He scoffed. "You two are pathetic," he spat.

"What does Hell want with them?" Castiel demanded. If Uriel was hunting them down, he must have been the one to find Lucifer's crypt and take the pages from the journal.

Uriel arched a brow. "Ah, so you haven't figured it out yet? They're the final pieces to usher in Lucifer's arrival."

"Lucifer doesn't need any rituals to ensure his rising," Anna pointed out. "The lock broke with the Devil's Gate opening."

"No, but these will restore his strength. He has languished a long time in the Cage, after all."

Castiel's blood ran cold. So that had been Azazel's plan all along—create special children baptized in demon blood who would then be sacrificed to Lucifer to give him power when he rose. Heaven may have wanted the final battle, but they most definitely would not want the Devil getting a leg up in the fight. So it made sense Uriel was…

Castiel frowned as he finally registered the fact that Uriel hadn't just killed this young woman, he'd drained her blood and _collected_ it…like Jake Talley. This wasn't an execution; it was a sacrifice.

"You're taking up Azazel's work," Castiel breathed. His pulse ratcheted up. "Why?"

Uriel smirked. "To restore our glorious brother, of course."

Castiel felt as though the oxygen got punched from his lungs. "Lucifer."

"You do remember him? How strong he was?" Uriel's tone had turned silky and inviting. "How beautiful? And he didn't bow to humanity. This whining, puking larva. He was punished for defending us."

"Is this a recruitment speech?" Anna retorted.

Uriel sneered. "Perhaps, in the past, I might have asked you to join me. But I know your bleeding hearts too well."

"It's not as though Michael has any love for humanity," Castiel threw out.

"Michael," Uriel jeered. "Perhaps not anymore, but his unerring devotion to God's will in the past was sickening. He was a weak sycophant. Lucifer, though, he is strong. He will lead us into glory."

"Not gonna happen," Anna said darkly.

Uriel's expression morphed into a smug moue. "You're too late. I'm almost finished. I just have one more special child to collect." The corner of his mouth curved upward as he turned his gaze to Castiel. "I saved the best for last."

Castiel's heart leaped for fear, but he clenched his fists, his grace crackling underneath the surface. "You are not taking Sam Winchester."

He took another step forward when a snarl sounded from the bushes. Castiel went rigid and whipped his head around. Dozens of pairs of red eyes were gleaming through gaps in the leaves and branches.

"It seems the blood has attracted a pack of hellhounds," Uriel casually commented. "I wish I could stay and watch them rip you apart, but I have an important matter to see to."

"No!" Castiel lunged for Uriel just as the other angel vanished into the ether, but before he could follow, a hellhound leaped from the bushes straight at him. Castiel unleashed his grace just as the mutt with molten veins hit him, both of them tumbling to the ground. But his panther exploded in an instant, throwing the beast off in the eruption of grace that rippled out and shimmered into an opalescent shield.

Castiel rolled into a crouch, eyes blazing. Anna's lynx was already glowing around her as she danced and pivoted through an onslaught of hellhounds.

Three charged at Castiel, and he spun around, swiping out with a set of claws. He caught two, sending them flying into tree trunks with yelps. The third had launched itself high and landed on his panther's shoulder. Teeth sank into it. He roared and slashed with his claws again, ripping the hellhound off.

Anna's cat yowled sharply, and Castiel darted over to snatch a hound off her flank. Back to back, they shredded the beasts that dared get close enough, until several mauled corpses lay scattered across the ground and the remaining hellhounds fled into the forest.

After a brief moment of catching their breaths, their spirit animals melted down and fizzled out. Castiel gave Anna a quick once-over to make sure she was uninjured. Both of them were breathing heavily, but weren't seriously hurt.

"We have to warn the Winchesters," he said urgently.

Anna nodded, and lowered her voice. "Evasive route Alpha. That spell Uriel has won't lead him to Sam; he may be waiting for us to do that."

Castiel's jaw tightened, and he gave a clipped nod, grateful for his former captain's presence of mind. Perhaps his closeness with his charges was beginning to affect his ability to think clearly.

He let Anna take the lead this time, the two of them diving through the ethereal currents in a seemingly erratic path that took them all the way over to the Rocky Mountains before veering back to the mid-west. It was an effective course for shaking any pursuers, and they saw no sign of Uriel.

They finally landed in the middle of Camp Chitaqua, and Castiel paused in surprise at how quiet it was. Where was everyone?

He started striding purposefully toward the Winchesters' cabin. "Sam! Dean!"

The door of another cabin swung open and a woman, Ellen, stepped out. "What's all the racket?"

Castiel turned sharply toward her. "Where are Sam and Dean?" he demanded.

She crossed her arms, apparently not impressed with his tone. "They left on a supply run hours ago."

Castiel's heart seized. They'd left the safety of the camp? "A supply run? Why? Your stock shouldn't be depleted yet."

"We've got an outbreak of disease and need more medical supplies," she replied, brow furrowing. "What's going on?"

"Disease?" Anna repeated.

"Yeah. Now tell me what the hell has got you so worked up. Are the boys okay?"

Castiel shook his head, snippets from an earlier conversation flitting through his mind, about hospitals being destroyed, right at the time when the camp suddenly needed them? It couldn't be coincidence.

He whipped his head up. "I have to find Sam and Dean."

Anna turned toward him. "The bond?"

He nodded, and closed his eyes to concentrate. The pieces he'd been relentlessly searching for were finally all coming together.

But it may have been too late.

* * *

Sam gazed up in relief at the four-story hospital he and their group were standing outside of. It was the third one on their desperate search for medical supplies, as the second town they'd visited was half obliterated by something. Maybe a bomb, though it'd been a long time since the US military had bothered to drop any on the mid-west region.

That, plus those other hospitals being destroyed struck Sam as weird, but he couldn't make heads or tails of it. When everything was falling into chaos and ruin, it was just par for the course, wasn't it?

"Okay, we'll split up into teams of two," Dean said. "Locate what we need and grab everything you can carry. We'll make several trips, pack our vehicles to the brim."

"How do you plan on divvying stuff up?" Paul spoke up stiffly.

"For the meds, we'll start with one dose for every person in each group," Dean replied. "Then double it and triple it until we've gone through it all. Sound okay?"

Sam glanced at the older man, who nodded.

"That could take a while," Paul pointed out.

"Everyone's leaving with what they need to survive," Dean said, then checked his handgun. "You run into any demons, yell. Jo, why don't you and- Kathy, was it?- take the pharmacy. Sam and Meredith take the second floor, Keith and Risa the third. Paul and I will check the ER."

Sam nodded, and tried to give the brunette he'd been paired with a friendly smile. Her expression was hard, but not hostilely so. He understood her trepidation; friends were hard to come by these days.

They all made their way to the hospital doors. With no electricity, the sliding mechanisms were off, but the glass had been shattered at some point. Sam's boots crunched on broken bits as he stepped over the frame. They all paused in the lobby to listen, but all seemed quiet. He exchanged a nod with his brother, and then turned for the stairwell along with Keith and Risa.

Sam and Meredith got off at the second floor. Meredith wasn't carrying a weapon, so Sam took the lead navigating the darkened corridor. There was a wheelchair lying on its side against the wall, and further down a tray of lab cups that looked as though it'd been dropped in a hurry, their contents nothing more than discolored stains on the floor now.

They made their way into a patient ward, and Sam figured the nurses probably kept mild medicine around somewhere for easy access. He spotted a closed door marked 'Med Room.' Bingo.

"Hey," he said quietly, nodding that direction.

Meredith paused to follow his gaze, then started toward it. Sam continued to glance up and down the halls as she reached for the doorknob. It was locked. Sam stowed his gun and got out his lock picks, making quick work. When the door swung open, they found the contents of the supply closet relatively untouched, with dozens of boxes of aspirin and other generic drugs in cabinets opposite shelves with trays labeled for specific patients. Sam let out an almost giddy smile, and even Meredith's dour expression loosened some at the sight.

They squished themselves into the small space and started shoving boxes into their knapsacks.

"We should have brought a shopping cart," Sam said light-heartedly.

Meredith shook her head. "Maybe we can get a gurney."

"Good idea."

She stepped out of the closet and back into the hallway. And a moment later screamed.

Sam dropped his bag and whipped his gun up with both hands, heart suddenly thundering against his rib cage. Sucking in a sharp breath, he swept out into the corridor, braced to be under attack by a demon.

Instead he found the dark-skinned man with one eye, holding Meredith by the throat. _Uriel_.

The angel cast an almost bored look at Sam before suddenly jerking his arm. Sam flinched at the audible crack, and gaped in horror as Uriel let Meredith crumple to the floor like a doll.

There was another scream from somewhere else in the hospital, followed by the distant echo of gunfire.

Sam's heart stuttered, and he raised his gun to shoot, but Uriel pointed a fist his direction, and all of a sudden crippling pain ripped through his stomach. He doubled over from the shock and agony, his gun clattering uselessly to the floor. A bitter copper tang worked its way up the back of his throat, and Sam fell to his knees coughing up blood. He clutched his stomach and gasped as a wave of blazing heat coursed through him, followed by a fierce chill, and back again.

Uriel flexed his hand out and removed a ring from his finger. "Impressive, isn't it?" he mused. "The ring of Pestilence. Quite a nasty piece of work, but fitting that it can wreak such havoc on humanity's frail existence. Humans are a disease themselves, after all."

Sam coughed again, which turned into retching. He tried to reach shaky fingers toward his gun, but Uriel stepped forward and kicked it away.

"The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are long dead," the angel went on. "Ironic, really. But their rings still possess their power. Even enough to send a plague out over an entire area."

Sam blinked against spotty vision. Wait, what?

Uriel squatted down in front of him, his lip curling up in distaste. "And like roaches under a battering gale, you went scurrying from your little burrow, just as I expected you to."

Sam gasped, terror as well as whatever was constricting his lungs making it difficult to breathe. It was a trap. "Why?" he gritted out. His first thought was for Cas, but that didn't quite make sense.

Uriel just smirked, and reached out to grip his shoulder hard enough to bruise. "It's God's will."

Sam tried to muster the strength to fight, but in the next instant, he felt himself being yanked forward into a dizzying vortex of swirling lights. His brain had a split second to realize he was probably in the ether before he started choking on the cloying atmosphere, and darkness took him a second after.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III**

Dean cursed as he emptied the last of his magazine into the two demons charging at him. Their bodies spritzed with orange lightning throughout their skeletons as they dropped beside three others, black vapor oozing up from the wounds. Where the hell had they all come from? One minute the entire hospital had been seemingly vacant, the next they were under attack by dozens of demons from practically every direction.

Gunfire echoed from down the hall, and Dean caught a glimpse of Jo, Risa, and Keith trying to make their way toward Dean's position by simply blowing through the demons. He couldn't let himself lament killing the hosts, if these bastards were in fact possessing people. It was difficult to tell, and he didn't have time to get through the entire exorcism string.

Out of angel bullets, Dean dropped his gun and drew an angel blade instead. He hated fighting humanoid demons up close; their true forms were vicious vipers that could rear their ugly heads at any moment. He'd rather take on a hell beast, because at least then he knew where the teeth were.

Gripping the angel blade, he spared a quick second to duck behind the nurse's counter where Paul was cowering, and grabbed a flask of holy water from his bag. He thrust it into the older man's hands.

"They get close, splash them with this," Dean instructed. Though he'd do his best to make sure they didn't get that far.

He leaped back up just as a demon came sweeping around the corner. Dean surged forward and drove the blade through the demon's chest, swift and efficiently. He spun as another demon came in from the opposite side, but wasn't quick enough to avoid the right hook aimed at his jaw. The force sent him reeling back into the wall, the demon following. Dean swiped with his blade and scored a gash across the demon's chest. It jerked back with a hiss, and the air around its shoulders wobbled. Great. Dean braced himself as a smoky viper surged up and snapped tenebrous fangs at him. He slashed with the angel blade, and the thing recoiled. At least angel weapons worked on demons' true forms.

But it was like fighting two opponents at the same time. While Dean was focused on not getting bitten, the humanoid demon lashed out and grabbed his throat. He stabbed his blade into the demon's arm, and it let go with a yell. The amorphous snake spat in rage.

Dean swiped at it one more time before diving out of the way and scrambling around behind. The demon pivoted with a hiss.

Water was suddenly flung through the air at it, and the demon threw its arms up with a shriek, recoiling away as it started to sizzle and smoke. Dean took the moment to attack, plunging the angel blade into the demon's chest. Both human and serpent screeched; the one body dropped while the other bled away into mist. Dean threw a quick look at Paul, who was clutching the flask in a white-knuckled, shaky grip.

"Dean!" Jo shouted.

He whipped his head toward them, heart seizing. They were firing rounds into the converging demons, but it wasn't doing anything. They were out of angel bullets too.

Dean ran toward them. But he knew in the back of his mind there were too many. Dammit, where was Sam?

A flash of white light rent the air, and suddenly Cas and Anna were in the middle of the fray, spinning and pivoting back to back like two synchronized dancers. They tore through the demons, starbursts of blue interspersed with electric orange. The only thing left for Dean to do was get out of their way.

Except when a few of the demons started to flee, and then Dean surged forward to intercept them. In a matter of minutes, the hospital lobby was littered with over a dozen bodies.

Dean shook his head in sheer relief. "Nice timing," he said to the angels.

Cas turned toward him sharply, eyes wide. "Where's Sam?"

Dean blinked, taken aback by the harried tone. "He was on the second floor." Dean's stomach clenched. And if he hadn't come down at the sound of the fight, then he'd probably had his own demons to deal with.

Dean whirled to Jo and the others. "Did you guys see him?"

Keith and Risa shook their heads. "We came down the east wing stairwell."

Dean pivoted toward the west end of the building, the others on his heels. Once he reached the stairwell, he took the steps two at a time, heart pounding and blood rushing in his ears. He didn't hear any sounds of additional fighting elsewhere in the hospital.

Bursting out onto the second floor, he found it quiet and empty.

"Sam!" Screw caution; any demon would have to be deaf to not have heard that battle.

Cas was already moving past him, striding down the corridor with single-minded intent. Dean hurried to keep up.

They rounded a corner, and Dean froze for a brief second at the sight of Meredith's body on the floor. He rushed forward, heart giving a pang in sympathy as he heard Kathy let out a shocked sob behind him. Dean gave her a quick once-over; looked like her neck had been broken. Her bag was beside her, boxes of aspirin spilled out. A few feet away was Sam's knapsack and gun, and a small glob of blood on the floor. But no Sam.

Dean frantically whipped his head up and down the corridor and craned to see into the nearby rooms. "Sam!"

"We're too late," he heard Cas say.

Dean spun sharply toward his friend just as Cas punched a hole right through the drywall. The angel's anger made a pit of dread carve out his stomach.

"Too late for what?" he demanded. "What's going on?"

"Sam's been taken," Anna replied. "Probably by Uriel."

Dean's brows shot upward. "Uriel?" he repeated dubiously. "Why?"

"Turns out he's a follower of Lucifer," Cas said gruffly, staring at his plaster-coated hand as he flexed his fingers. "He discovered the purpose of the special children—they're meant to be sacrifices to give Lucifer power when he rises. He's already killed the others, drained their blood for the ritual."

Dean felt as though all the oxygen had gotten sucked out of the room. "We have to find them!"

"We have a spell Azazel created to locate the special children," Anna said.

Cas shook his head. "It won't work. The warding I carved into Sam's ribs will shield him."

Oh, fan-frickin'-tastic. Their protective measures were now gonna work against them.

"How did this Uriel even find Sam, then?" Jo spoke up.

Dean stiffened. Shit, he hoped they didn't have another Khan worm in their midst.

"You came looking for medicine?" Anna said.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. We've been out for hours. This was the first hospital we found that wasn't destroyed."

"That's how," Cas said, closing his eyes in dismay. "Uriel destroyed all the hospitals in the area except this one."

Dean just stared at him. "Are you saying this whole thing was a set-up? That, what, he somehow sent the flu outbreak to our camp?"

"It wouldn't surprise me at this point," Cas replied grimly. "He would have realized the locator spell he had wasn't working, and needed to take extreme measures."

Dean's mind was reeling with the sudden revelation. All of this had been some elaborate ruse to get Sam? He flicked a look at Paul and Kathy. Their group had been hit with an outbreak, too. So, Uriel had somehow sent a plague over the entire region _and_ destroyed the hospitals the surviving humans would seek out? It was just too wild to fathom.

Dean snapped himself out of his stupor. Sam was in trouble, and he needed to focus on getting him back. "We have to do something. We can't just let Uriel sacrifice my brother to the Devil!"

Cas started to pace, and Dean could see he was just as distraught and worried about Sam.

"It's probably too late," Anna put in gingerly. "Sam was the last, and we have no idea where Uriel would have taken him."

No, Dean refused to accept that.

"Wait," he said, holding up a hand. "If Sam's the last and all this is for Lucifer's big debut, then wouldn't Uriel take him to the Devil's Gate?"

"The others were killed in different locations," she replied.

"But their blood was collected," Cas interjected, eyes sparking with the same idea Dean was having. "Saved for this moment. Uriel may not waste time killing Sam somewhere else; he may go straight to the Gate."

"Then let's go," Dean said.

"Anna and I will go," Cas responded.

Dean stepped forward, gaze piercing. "Cas, he's my brother."

The angel hesitated for a beat, but then nodded. "We'll have to travel through the ether."

"I'll manage." Dean turned to Jo and the others. "Finish splitting up the meds and supplies, then get back to camp."

"I can go with you," Jo started, but Dean shook his head.

"I need you there."

She gave him a pained look, but didn't argue further.

Cas looked at Anna. "You need to warn the garrison that Lucifer is coming."

Her mouth pinched into a tight line. "Promise me you won't confront Lucifer. Just get Sam and get out."

"I promise."

Dean couldn't tell whether Cas meant that whole heartedly, or if the angel knew it was the kind of promise that could easily have extenuating circumstances.

Not that it mattered. They both needed to do this.

Anna disappeared, and Dean drew his shoulders back as he faced Cas and readied himself to hop onto Angel Air.

Cas reached out and gripped his bicep. "Hold your breath."

* * *

Sam woke groggily, something hard and cold pressing up against his back. He shifted, only to feel resistance in his arms, which were stretched out tautly to the sides and dangling over the rough edges of whatever he was lying on top of. He lifted his head and blinked in confusion. He was on a raised stone slab. To his left was a steep rise of dirt, which arced around past his feet in a semi circle…

His breath caught in his throat, and he wrenched his head back to find a shimmering tear in space floating in the air several feet away. The Devil's Gate. Sam's heart rate ratcheted up. The last time he'd seen this place, Hell had been spilling out on the earth and Dean was being dragged by a hound into the Pit.

He tried to tug his arms up, but there was rope tied tightly around his wrists and securing them to the base of the…oh god, altar?

Gravel crunched, and Sam cricked his neck whipping it around so fast. Uriel came to stand over him, the angel's white eye boring into Sam as though through blindness it could pierce the very fabric of flesh.

Sam's jaw jerked, but he forced himself to lift his chin. "What do you want with me?"

"Not you," Uriel replied. "Your blood." He roved a disdainful look over Sam. "The demon blood makes you an abomination."

Sam tensed. So had Heaven come after him because the demons had some weird plan for him that he didn't even know about? He supposed that made sense; anything a Prince of Hell had up his sleeve was something to worry about.

"If you're going to kill me, then just get it over with," he ground out.

Uriel smirked. "I didn't have to bring you here, you know. The sacrifice requires the blood of Azazel's children, not their bodies." He leaned down close to Sam's face, nostrils flaring. "But after you helped humiliate me at the rebel compound, I decided I wanted you to be present for this."

Sam clenched his jaw and tried not to recoil. He couldn't move, anyway. But wait, sacrifice?

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, a new thread of fear worming through his gut. Why were they at the Devil's Gate?

Uriel straightened with a smug moue. "You're the final piece to bringing Lucifer into this world. He's been weakened from his time in the Pit, and your blood will be the sacrifice he needs to regain his strength."

Sam's eyes widened in growing horror, and he started to struggle against the ropes.

Uriel merely lifted his chin, expression gloating. "Yes, I wanted you to feel this moment. Your defeat. All your puny efforts with the rebel faction to defy destiny were for nothing. Lucifer will rise, and he will destroy the scum of the earth, along with the pious saps of Heaven."

Sam strained his muscles against his bonds, heart pounding painfully against his rib cage. Uriel drew an angel blade and moved over to one of Sam's wrists. Avoiding the rope itself, he deftly sliced down the inside of Sam's arm. Sam hissed between his teeth at the fiery sting, then felt a stream of hot blood begin pouring down his hand to drip from his fingers.

Uriel strode around the other side and slit Sam's other wrist.

 _No!_

He let out an agonized cry of rage at his helplessness as the ropes refused to budge. Blood pumped from his veins, and Sam dropped his head back against the stone as lightheadedness began to take hold. He watched Uriel stow his blade and pick up a huge glass jar full of dark, viscous looking fluid, which the angel then carried over to the front of the portal and started to pour out, chanting something in that deep, guttural language of Enochian.

The blood began to glow orange, and Sam cried out in surprise as his own blood still running from his body pulsed with fire. He saw an orange glow suffusing up from where his arms were growing heavy hanging over the sides of the altar. Shadows encroached along the edges of his vision.

The crimson ridges of the portal flared, and something within shook the foundations with a roar.

* * *

Castiel exited the ethereal slipstream at the rim of the crater containing the Devil's Gate with Dean in tow. The human took a staggering step and nearly doubled over with a ragged gasp. Still holding onto his arm, Castiel quickly yanked the hunter to the ground, and then peered over the rise into the basin. Unlike the last time Castiel had been here, the area was devoid of scavenger demons, the crater empty save for a stone table on the opposite side— _Sam_ —and Uriel standing before the portal. Smoke was beginning to pour out.

They were too late.

Castiel heard Dean inhale sharply when he spotted his brother. All Castiel could see from this distance was Sam prone on the slab and blood on the ground. He couldn't tell if the younger Winchester was still alive.

"I'll distract Uriel," he said. "You get to Sam."

A muscle in Dean's jaw ticked, but he nodded.

Castiel quickly calculated the angles for his attack. "Go!"

Dean launched himself off the ground and started half running, half sliding down the slope. Castiel slipped into the ether and an instant later zipped back out, arm already drawn back for a punch. He slammed his fist into the side of Uriel's skull, knocking the angel to the ground and disrupting his chant. Not that the spell could be stopped at this point; the sacrifice had been offered—and received. More and more smoke was spewing from the Devil's Gate, obscuring the air. Castiel saw Dean sprint past on his way to Sam.

Uriel rolled dazedly, and Castiel dealt a swift kick to his head that put him down for the count. Castiel then turned and darted toward the Winchesters where Dean was frantically slicing through some ropes tied around Sam's wrists. Which were drenched in blood.

Sam was unconscious, pallor deathly grey. Dean scrabbled to wrap his own hands tightly around his brother's lacerated wrists, squeezing as hard as he could to staunch the flow of blood.

"Cas!" he called, eyes pleading with desperation.

A roar belted through the air like distant thunder, and Castiel's eyes widened as he snapped his attention to the Gate. The entire portal was wreathed in smoke now, and through the murky haze, a figure began to emerge.

The silhouette of a dragon rose up and arched its wings.

* * *

 **A/N: Check out 29-pieces-of-me on deviantart for a deliciously creepy rendition of Lucifer. *g***


	4. Chapter 4

**Part IV**

Castiel stared in horror. The shadowy dragon lifted its saurian head high, and the last of the blood glowing orange on the ground slurped forward into the murky brume shrouding the area in front of the Gate. The dragon let out a shuddering breath of satiation.

"Cas!" Dean's urgent voice snapped him out of his frozen terror, and Castiel whirled back to his friends. Dean's fingers were slick with his brother's blood where he was grasping Sam's limp wrists in a vice-like grip.

Castiel's stomach dropped out from under him as he took in the younger Winchester's condition. He wouldn't be able to transport them out of here, as Sam would likely not survive a trip through the ether in this state.

There was only one thing he could do.

"Dean, move." Castiel nudged the older Winchester aside and laid his hands over Sam's wrists where Dean had been holding on. Blood wasn't flowing freely anymore—most of it had already spilled upon the ground.

Castiel closed his eyes and summoned up his grace. Since he did not possess a healer's abilities, he was left with only one option for attempting this. He extended several tendrils of his grace, focusing on seeking out what needed to be repaired. It wasn't just the cuts on Sam's wrists, but the sluggish beat of his fading heart, the shock to the rest of his system, and the sulfurous burn of his blood being ignited for that spell.

Castiel wove his grace through the sundered muscle and tissue, stitching it back together first. Then he sent his grace straight to the young man's heart where his celestial energy infused into the organ and made it swell with a renewed beat. Then another. He needed to replace the blood that had been lost as well.

"Stay with me, Sam," he urged, opening his eyes to watch the Winchester's pale face. There was a faint glow just beneath Sam's skin as Castiel's grace suffused through his body.

Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel saw the dragon shift and shamble forward, but he couldn't worry about that; if he broke the link now, the energy whiplash could still kill Sam in his weakened state. They were stuck and vulnerable until Castiel was finished healing him.

Dean watched with rapt attention, flicking nervous looks at the Gate. Castiel chanced a look up as well.

The dragon began to fold down like a deflated balloon, and the figure that finally stepped through the brown fog was just a man, tall, hair as sandy as the crater floor. His shoulders rose with a deep, savoring inhalation.

Lucifer.

Castiel's heart stuttered wildly in his chest, and he swallowed hard as he glanced back at Sam, trying to gauge how much longer. His grace was slowly trickling through Sam's veins, replenishing the blood he'd lost and trying to soothe the burn of magic. The damage was extensive.

Dean fidgeted beside him. "Cas…"

"I can't stop," he whispered back. Not if they wanted Sam to live.

Lucifer hadn't noticed them yet, though. Instead, he turned his head toward where Uriel was staggering to his feet.

The dark angel took a few lumbering steps forward. "Brother," he breathed reverently. "You have returned."

"Yes," the Devil spoke, his cadence light and almost musing. "Finally." He breathed deeply again. "I take it I have you to thank for that welcoming present?"

Uriel moved closer and folded an arm diagonally across his chest. "It is my great joy and honor to see you restored, brother."

"Mhm-hmm." Lucifer closed the last few feet between them, and Castiel was suddenly reminded of a cobra slinking toward its prey. Uriel held his head high and proud.

"The sacrifice was appreciated," Lucifer went on. "But I'm feeling like I could still use a little pick-me-up."

Before Uriel could respond, Lucifer punched his hand straight into the other angel's chest. Uriel's back arched as a guttural scream tore from his throat. Castiel watched in horror as Uriel's grace rippled around him, the leopard roaring for a brief second before collapsing in on itself again in sputtering waves of plasma.

Lucifer yanked his hand out, ripping Uriel's grace from his body. There was another feline yowl of pain before Lucifer closed his eyes and sucked in a huge breath, inhaling Uriel's flickering grace through his nose and mouth. Lucifer straightened as his body momentarily glowed with fulvous fire. Uriel's body dropped to the ground, his one good eye frozen open and vacant.

"Ah," Lucifer exhaled. "Much better."

Castiel tried to push his grace through Sam faster, but mending the mortal's collapsed systems was delicate, and he couldn't rush it without causing his own damage. His heart seized when he felt a sinister gaze narrow in on them, and he looked up to find Lucifer canting his head at them in curious consideration.

"Castiel, isn't it?" the Devil said, eyes flicking down for a brief moment to where Castiel's palms were glowing over Sam. His brow quirked in confusion. "Are you…trying to heal that boy?"

Castiel swallowed. _Come on, Sam_.

Lucifer took a slow step forward, brows rising in surprise. "You _are_."

Castiel shifted, unable to move or defend himself. He saw Dean's hand slowly moving toward the angel blade tucked inside the hunter's jacket, and made a negative noise in the back of his throat. In a hand-to-hand fight with the Devil, Dean would lose.

Castiel somehow found his voice. "You don't need him anymore."

Lucifer's brows shot upward in surprise again. "What a peculiar thing you are."

He looked ready to come closer when a flash of golden light erupted in the sky, and Gabriel touched down in the middle of the crater. Lucifer craned his head at the other archangel's arrival, eyes briefly dancing. He turned his back on Castiel and the Winchesters and started making his way over.

"Gabriel. Long time no see. Come to welcome me back?"

Gabriel held himself tensely, expression hard. "Hey, bro. It has been a long time."

Lucifer frowned at him. "Why so dour, brother?" He spread his arms. "I've returned. The dynamic duo can get back together!"

"I didn't come here to join you."

Lucifer's mouth dropped open in exaggerated disbelief. "Don't tell me you're here for Michael."

"Michael can kiss my ass."

"Why you disloyal—"

"Don't lecture me about loyalties," Gabriel snapped. "You ripped our _family_ apart. Spat in the face of Dad's work every chance you got. Provoked Michael even more often than that."

"Michael deserved it—"

"I know what Michael deserves," Gabriel said darkly. "It's what the rest of us didn't deserve that I care about."

"Gabriel…" Lucifer said, sounding taken aback. "I always had your back."

Gabriel's granite expression turned sad for just a moment. "The only person you've ever been loyal to, is yourself."

He flicked a quick look past Lucifer, meeting Castiel's eye. The message was clear— _run_.

Castiel forced his attention back to Sam as the hunter's heart settled into a steady rhythm, pumping life blood through his arteries. Castiel finally withdrew his grace back into himself, though several threads had been left in place, thrumming with the echoes of infused healing. Sam's eyelids fluttered.

"Sammy?" Dean called anxiously.

"Mmph," Sam moaned, groggily prying his eyes open. "D'n?" He blinked. "Cas?"

"We have to move," Castiel urged quietly, reaching to grip Sam's arm and haul him up off the stone slab. Dean grabbed his brother's other side and helped brace Sam as he slid off the edge and stumbled to catch his balance.

Sam started craning his neck around at their surroundings. "Wha- Lucifer! Uriel plans to—"

"We know," Dean gruffly cut him off. "Come on."

Sam's eyes widened and his face blanched as he twisted around and spotted the Devil facing off with Gabriel. Castiel propelled him and Dean up the slope of the basin, casting terrified looks over his own shoulder as they went. Gabriel's grace was starting to ripple around his shoulders. Could he take on Lucifer?

Castiel thought about pushing Sam into Dean's arms and telling them to go, and turning back to stand beside his brother. But he didn't want to distract Gabriel.

They reached the top of the crater's rim, and Castiel paused to look back.

"You honestly think you can take me?" he heard Lucifer scoff.

"I'm sorry, Luci," Gabriel replied solemnly. "But you made your choice. And I have a family to protect." Golden energy rose up, extending out into wings.

Yet before he could fully unleash his grace, a crack of thunder shook the heavens, and Castiel wrenched his head up. A beam of crackling golden lightning shot down from the eye of a billowing cloud, straight at Gabriel. Castiel's heart seized.

 _Michael_.

Gabriel dove to the side a split second before the energy blast struck, exploding a shower of dirt through the air. For a terrified moment, Castiel lost sight of his brother, but then he spotted Gabriel stumbling to his feet through the haze. Lucifer had disappeared.

Gabriel only hesitated a beat before vanishing as well.

Castiel snapped out of his stupor and resumed pushing the Winchesters toward the woods. They had to flee before any more of Heaven's forces decided to come down.

Anna and Balthazar met them at the tree line, urging them to hurry. By now, Sam had fully recovered and was running on his own two feet. A few more minutes, and he might be well enough to attempt a leap through the ether.

There was a faint zip, and Gabriel emerged from the slipstream behind them. He was covered in dirt and staggering slightly, but seemed unharmed by Michael's attempt on his life.

Gabriel looked up and met Castiel's gaze, expression grim. Lucifer had risen.

The final stage of the End had come.

* * *

Sam sat on one of the cots in the infirmary at the angel compound, trying not to fidget as Hael's grace fluttered up his arm and around his neck with the kiss of a butterfly's soft wings. It kind of tickled.

She finally stepped back, her light receding. "There's no damage left that needs healing," she told the others.

The audience was another reason Sam felt so uncomfortable. He'd just been instrumental in Lucifer's rising, and to have a bunch of angels staring at him with such scrutiny…he didn't know what they were thinking.

Dean, at least, lost some of the tension in his shoulders at the announcement.

Gabriel sighed and turned to Cas. "So now you've managed to bond yourself to _two_ humans."

Sam straightened. Wait, what?

Cas's posture was entirely unapologetic. "It was the only way."

Was that why everyone was staring? Of course…when Cas had healed Dean, it'd been unorthodox and inadvertently created the bond they shared. Sam didn't think much of it, as it'd come in pretty handy at times. So when Cas had healed him at the Devil's Gate, the same thing must have happened.

So Sam now had some of an angel's grace in him. He didn't feel all that different. Did that mean he'd be able to 'sense' Cas now, too? That was a weird notion. He'd just accepted Dean's ability to do it without worrying too much about the mechanism. Now he supposed he'd have to figure it out.

Gabriel lifted his eyes to the ceiling in that exasperated older brother look Sam was quite familiar with receiving. "Yeah, yeah," he said to Cas. "But _please_ , for the love of my sanity, _don't_ do it again. We have no idea the impact this could have on an angel if done too many times."

Cas finally looked slightly abashed at that. "Alright," he agreed.

"Thank you, though," Dean said, eyes shimmering with deep sincerity.

Cas gave him a soft smile. "Of course."

Sam cleared his throat and looked at Hael. "What about the, uh, demon blood? Am I still…an abomination?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Sammy," Dean started, voice pained.

"What?" he retorted defensively. "It's what Uriel called me. And come on, Dean, _demon_ blood."

"You shouldn't take to heart anything Uriel said," Cas said sternly.

Sam shook his head. He appreciated their devotion to him, despite…this. But part of him also wished they'd accept the truth instead of denying it.

"The demon blood burned out," Hael put in, and Sam found her sweet voice somehow more of a balm in this moment than his friends' fervent declarations.

He swallowed. "Are you sure?"

She gave him a small smile. "Yes. And with some of Castiel's grace inside you, it won't be coming back."

Sam blinked, his lungs suddenly forgetting how to breathe. He was… _clean_? He lifted a stunned gaze to Cas, chest compressing under the deluge of emotions. Cas's expression softened, and he nodded as though understanding all the gratitude Sam couldn't find a voice for because there was too much of it.

But the fact that the blight he'd been afflicted with as a child was now gone didn't absolve him of the consequences of it.

"I'm sorry," he said to the room, ducking his gaze. "Lucifer's out there now, more powerful than he should be because of me."

"You were just one sacrifice of many," Gabriel responded, sounding oddly understanding. "You are not responsible for that."

"Lucifer also obtained an extra power boost from consuming Uriel's grace," Cas added.

Gabriel's mouth thinned into a grave line at that. Sam imagined knowing the Devil could kill angels in that manner was frightening, though he was glad Uriel was dead.

His attention was drawn to the doorway as Anna and Muriel entered.

"We found Pestilence's ring on Uriel's body," Anna reported, "and destroyed it, so that should resolve the mysterious plague that's struck the human populations in the area."

Sam let out a breath of relief at the news. He did not want to see that ring ever again.

"So what happens next?" Dean abruptly asked. "I mean, at this point, wouldn't it be better if Michael and Lucifer duked it out and Michael won? At least then the Apocalypse would be over and the demons sent back to Hell, right?"

Gabriel shook his head. "Michael will remake the world the way he wants it. And it doesn't include humans."

"Same goes for Lucifer, if he wins," Cas put in.

"So no matter what, we're facing extinction." Dean reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck. "Awesome. Then what the hell are we supposed to do? Wait for the world to go up in flames?"

The angels in the room exchanged silent looks, their expressions grim and resigned.

"What we've been doing," Gabriel finally answered. "Fight it. Michael thinks he's playing by a script. His script. Lucifer's had his own since the beginning. But we aren't going to follow either one of them."

"Team Free Will, huh?" Dean joked.

Sam looked away. Free will. Destiny. Did they exist? When he was just a baby, demon blood had been forced upon him, sending his life down the path of a hunter, and then finally as an instrument in Lucifer's grand scheme. That wasn't his choice.

But, he was alive. And as long as he had breath in his body, he could fight back, like Gabriel said. Like they'd been doing ever since the beginning.

And maybe, if they all worked together, they could find a way to put the Devil back in his cage.

…

NEXT TIME

Gabriel sighed. "Lucifer doesn't want to fight Michael. All he cares about is smashing Daddy's toys, and he'll happily try to wait out Michael in the hopes that Big Brother will eventually give up and surrender the planet to him."

"Not liking these forecasts," Dean put in gruffly.

"You mentioned we need a new strategy," Castiel interjected. "Do you have one in mind?"

Gabriel cocked a finger-gun at him and winked. "Glad you asked! There might be a way to stop all this. Lucifer, the Apocalypse. Of course, it's a long shot in the dark."


End file.
